


A Healed Heart

by Charlie9646



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Adult Children, Anal Sex, Angst, Depression, F/M, Hermione/Severus mentioned, Loss, M/M, PTSD, Severus Snape Lives, Widowers, bisexual draco, character death is pre fic, gay ron, mentions of cheating, mentions of drinking, questioning Ron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646
Summary: What does it take to heal a broken heart? What if the person your suppose to hate is gone? What if all you have left is memories, and the person she fell in love with when you were too busy dealing with your own issues?What would you do if at your worst you find the person who you were truly meant to be with? He all of people can understand your pain. Loving and loosing someone who you were never really in love with.Ron and Draco make a good go of it, and Ron gives the gift of closure to Severus.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy - Relationship, past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley - Relationship, past Severus Snape/Hermione Granger
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Ron/Draco Fest - Better Together





	A Healed Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Gcgraywriter for Betaing this

Ron woke up this morning as he did every morning, to the beeping of his alarm, without thought as he had for over a decade, he reached for Hermione. In his half-asleep half-awake mind, he forgot the fact that hung over his waking moments with so much pain. Hermione was gone. Hermione was dead. 

Hugo was in his last year of Hogwarts, Rose was in healer training, living at home. Sometimes he wondered why his daughter had not gotten a flat of her own, when pressed the nineteen-year-old asserted that it was just easier this way. That they could split the cost of things and such. But, in his heart, Ron knew Rose did not want him to be alone. 

The smell of coffee filled the air, Rose liked coffee, just like her mother had. He could never understand that, being someone who had always loved tea. Coffee tasted just bitter to him, but the bitter taste now reminded him of her. Ron sighed, barely wanting to look in the mirror, he did not want to see his worn, tired face. He did not want to see his bloodshot eyes. He did not want to see the face of a man, who sometimes wished he too was dead, even if the face staring back in the mirror was himself.

He pulled on his dressing gown and walked out to the kitchen. Rose was already cooking, her strawberry blonde curls still sticking up at all angles.”Good morning, Rosie.”

Not turning from her work, Rose said, ”Good morning, dad, did you sleep well?”

Ron knew he should be truthful with his daughter, that she all of people would understand. It was her mother who died after all. But, he did not want to worry her. It was all Snape’s fault. He was the reason his wife had been on that stupid train. She was visiting that stupid wretched man, why didn't she apparate that day? Or fly? Or anything but take a muggle train?

Rose finished the fry up and set it on plates. ”Dad, are you okay?”

He said to her, ”I am doing okay Rose.” He didn't actually lie to her, he just didn't tell her the whole truth.

He made himself a cup of coffee, the bitter taste, not unlike his mood. Ron was not looking forward to work. George of all people knew loss better than anyone, but the truth was it was a joke shop. People did not want a moody or upset or angry worker to be the one who helped them with their shopping. They came to such a place to be happy to escape from the reality of their life. Not to be reminded of the reality, that not everyone had a happy perfect life.

************************** 

Ron got an owl from Rose she needed him to come to St Mungo's, something about falling down the stairs. He shoved the letter in the pocket of his trousers—and wen to find George. He pulled his coat off the hook and then put it on. He called out, ”George, something happened to Rose. I believe she needs my help.”

George nodded and said, “We aren't that busy today anyway. I considered sending you home anyway.”

Ron knew the reason George hadn't sent him home. He was worried his brother was either going to curl up in bed or bury himself at the bottom of a bottle. His brother was not foolish to think that was what he might do, he had been doing it for months, but then Arthur decided to have an intervention of sorts. His father reminded him that he still had a reason to go on. Most importantly, his children, but also his siblings as well as his nieces and nephews.

Ron apparated to the iron gates outside of St Mungos. The iron gates, the snowy ground, and the feeling of depression itself seemed to cloak the hospital campus in suffering. He walked up to the oak wood doors and grabbed the brass handle. He stepped inside there was the typical hustle and bustle of the hospital. 

Anna Nott, a close friend of Rose’s, came over to him and said, ”Hello, Mr Weasley, Rose fell down some stairs.”

Ron said with some concern worried about his daughter, ”She should be fine then, right? A couple of potions and such?”

Anna shook her head, ”Unfortunately, Mr Weasley, Rose allowed another healer trainee to do the spells... And he spelled her bones away.”

Ron cursed under his breath, ”How stupid can you be in what year of healer training was he in?”

The young woman said, ”Second, just like us. I don't know why she trusted Frank, I mean after what uncle Draco said about his father...”

Ron grumbled remembering what pushed his buttons about this girl. He said, ”Neville, Ms Nott is one of the best people I know... The world we have now is partly because of him. I would do your best to remember that. Now, where is my daughter?”

She grumbled, pulling her dark waves out of her face, vaguely reminded him of her mother, Pansy, ”Three halls down, room number 194.”

What did he expect with Pansy Parkinson as her mother and Theodore Nott as her father? Sometimes he wondered about Rose’s choice in friends. The younger generation seemed to be far more willing to make friends outside of their own houses, even with Slytherins.

Ron walked over to the hall he was directed and then found the room Rose was in. He softly knocked on the door, and then heard her say, ”Come in.”

Rose laid in the hospital bed, she was smiling, but her left leg was bent at an unnatural angle. Next to her was Scorpius Malfoy. His white-blonde hair the same as his father’s, though the bridge of his nose was covered in freckles. Ron never believed that there would be a day that he would see a Malfoy with freckles.

Rose said, ”Hello, dad, thank you for coming so quickly.” 

Ron said, ”Why in the world did you let Frank practice that spell on you?”

She said, ”Because he knows how to do it...”

He said, ”He clearly doesn't. There has to be another reason.”

Rose’s face turned a shade of bright red, ”Daddy, we together, him and I. He didn't mean anything by this. It was an accident! He didn't mean it, I swear.”

Ron asked, ”Why is Malfoy here, then?”

Rose crossed her arms over her chest and said, ”Because he's sitting with me until either you got here or Frank got off work. He and Albus are together, have been since we were in school. Al has an appointment today; that's why Scor was able to sit with me.”

Ron said, ”Why does someone have to sit with her?”

A balding wizard with short-cropped salt and pepper hair stuck his head in and said, ”Because young Ms.Weasley doesn't want to say in bed.”

She rolled her eyes and said, ”I needed to use the loo and didn't want to wait on my nurse.”

Ron said, ”Rose! You are far too old to behave like this. What would your mother think?”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. She snarled, ”I don't know what mother would think, father! She's dead! She's dead because of something no one, not even she could control. Stop blaming Snape! Stop blaming her! But most of all, daddy, stop blaming yourself. Let someone in dad. She's been dead for five years. It's time.”

Ron said nothing to his daughter; he ran from her hospital room; he needed a cigarette. Step by step, he felt his feet carrying himself out of the hospital, away from the eyes he swore were gawking at him. Away from the words, his daughter said, words that happened to be true.

************************** 

Ron lit a cigarette, he knew he should not smoke, but it was better than punching his fist through a wall. It was better than screaming at the top of his lungs. It was far better than going off to find Snape and throwing his former professor off a bridge. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw him, Draco, Draco Malfoy. The man who had made him miserable throughout his time at Hogwarts. He took another hit off of his cigarette and said, ”Come here to kick me while I am down? Remind how bloody stupid I am, Malfoy?”

Draco said to him, ”Actually, no, Ron, I am not. I was just going to ask if I could bum a cigarette off you.” I would have expected Malfoy to call him either Ronald or Weasley at this point. They’re not quite on first names bases yet…

Ron said, ”Sure, here”, as he handed Draco a cigarette and his lighter.

Draco remarked, ”I haven't smoked one of these in years. Not since...”

Ron said, ”The war?” So many people seemed to act differently during the war. Hell, he had run off and abandoned his friends, but that was mostly due to the pain and the fact all three of them were starving.

Draco said, ”Actually, no, but I did smoke then. The last time was right after Astoria died. I needed an escape. Relief from my pain and my anger.”

Ron said, ”Does it... Get better?”

Draco said, ” It's been ten years, Ron, and I still miss her. I think I always will. But, I also have to live. I have to get out of bed every morning, not drink myself into a drunken stupor, and be there for those I love. I cannot lay down next Astoria’s grave and die. At first, I knew it would dishonor her memory, but I also know she wouldn’t want that. Neither does Scorpius.”

Ron said, ”I just don't know how I should feel... Anger, sadness, or grief I don't know which. Should I mourn her? Should I be angry at her for cheating on me? Should I be sad she's gone? Should I be angry at the man she was cheating on me with? Is it his fault she's dead? Hers? Or sheer dumb luck?”

Draco said softly as he put out his cigarette with his boot, ”All of the above. Or none of them. Weasley... It's up to you. I was angry at the world when Astoria died. It was due to a blood curse, something that some bastard centuries ago put on her family. For a reason, we don't know and will never understand. 

Then to have people decide that they had a right... that it was their duty to start rumors that my son, my boy... The last piece I have of Astoria was the son of that monster. I wanted to pull down the sky and rip it open. I wanted to make it rain blood. I think that's what you’re feeling Ron, and when it comes to that? It will take time, and you will always feel some of it.”

Ron didn't know why he asked Draco this, but he had to know. If he did not, he would regret it for the rest of his life, and Ron had far too many regrets he didn't need any more of them. “Draco, are you gay?”

The man turned to him and smiled, his bright blue-grey eyes staring into Ron’s, ”No... I am not.”

Ron turned his shoulders down; he shouldn't care. Malfoy was Malfoy. He shouldn't be jumping straight into a relationship; he should not have even said anything. He had always liked Malfoy, not that he would admit it to anyone. How could he not find the blonde attractive? His Quidditch toned body when they were still in school, his pink lips, eyes that reminded Ron of crystal clear pools by the shores of Scotland where his father used to take him as a child.

Now, as a grown man, Draco was still just as attractive, if not more so. His trim frame, long muscled limbs. His long tied back white blonde silk-like hair. His jaw that had filled out and become strong-looking, no longer sharp the way it did when he was a child. 

Draco Lucius Malfoy was all that Ron never wanted to admit that he yearned for, but desired to have more than life itself, more than anything before. Ronald Weasley liked men, he had not spoken those words to anyone, and he did not know if he would ever get the bravery to. The Gryffindor felt more like a cowardly lion than a brave Griffin at the moment. 

If he was honest with himself, though he rarely was these days, let alone with others. Hermione knew he liked men. He did not know if he was gay or maybe it was he was bisexual, but the matter of the fact was he wanted men. Nothing was going to change that, whether he took it to his grave unspoken or told the whole world. Ron Weasley; friend of Harry Potter, widower of Hermione Granger, son of Molly and Arthur Weasley, was as queer as a pair of blue suede shoes. 

Draco said, ”Ron... I am not gay, but I am bisexual. And if you're asking me on a date, I would love to go on with you.”

Ron stood there dumbfounded that Draco was not gay, but he still the fact that he wanted to go on a date with him. Ron Weasley. The man who worked at his brother’s joke shop and had put on a small amount of weight since he was a teenager around his middle.

Bisexual was good Draco being bisexual meant Ron still had a chance to be more than Draco’s friend. He wanted to be far more than his friend, his fuck buddy, or even just his rebound. Ron wanted to be Draco’s forever, he was never one to have a relationship that was not meaningful. But, maybe that was why he married his Hogwarts sweetheart, but so did Draco. So maybe there was a chance at something more.

But, instead of voicing his fears, he smiled at the man of his dreams and said, ”This Saturday? At seven? Maria's? It's a muggle Italian...”

Draco finished his sentence, ”Near Diagon alley. That sounds perfect. See you there.” And then the blonde did something so unexpected, so shocking it left Ron frozen solid for a few seconds. He kissed the red-haired man. 

Once it clicked in Ron’s head what was going on, he kissed Draco back. They pulled away a minute later, out of breath. Foreheads relating against each other. A smile on both their faces. That kiss, the feeling of Draco’s tongue in his mouth, was one of the most incredible feelings he had ever felt in his life. 

That kiss was better than sex. Better than liquor. Better than winning a Quidditch game. The only thing that beat that kiss was the birth of his children. Maybe he was gay after all. 

****************************

Ron walked into the bookshop he was picking up something for Rose, who was not allowed to work until she built back up the strength in her leg. It seemed having your bones vanished did not help your ability to be on your feet all day. So, she was off for at least two weeks and bored to tears. Hence the reason why she had begged her father to get her some new books.

He turned the corner, and it was then he saw him. 

Snape. 

Ron would never be able to understand what Hermione had seen in the man, his long greasy black hair, his hooked nose, his flat black eyes, his pale skin, the scars on his throat, his long spider-like limbs. The man was everything that a person would not want in the person they were sleeping with, and that was not even taking into consideration the man’s sullen at best and downright cruel temperament.

Snape looked up then, staring at Ron as Ron stared at him. Gone were the bat like robes—the man was still dressed in all blackNow it was muggle clothing, though they did seem like they were from a different time, just ever so slightly outdated. What did it matter, though? This man had slept with his wife. This man was the reason why she had gotten on that stupid bloody train to Edinburgh. 

Ron lost a wife that day, their children lost a mother, and Snape well he lost a lover and a child of his own. It turned out, Ron only learning it from a letter after her passing that Hermione had been pregnant, with Snape’s child. That was why she could not apparate; that was why she could not fly; that was why she could not floo. 

The greasy git’s bastard was the reason why Hermione was dead. Ron didn't know whether to walk over to Snape and try to knock out his teeth, ignore the man as if he did not exist, or maybe just maybe what Rose, Harry, and even his father had recommended he needed closure. He needed to talk to Snape.

So, he said to the man, ”Snape, can we talk like the grown men we are over a coffee or tea?”

Severus said, ”Yes, we can. Why don't we both go pay for our purchases and then go next store to brewing beans? The drinks are rather good, even if the name is rather stupid.”

Ron said, ”See you there, Snape.”

************************

Severus Snape and Ronald Weasley stared at each other. Snape was drinking black earl grey tea, Ron was drinking a London fog. He did admit it was rather good. They said nothing, like dogs in a pit they were squared off, waiting for the other to make the first move. While people around them laughed, talked, and did their work around them. 

Both knew that they could not do anything to the other. That was why it was best this conversation was done in public. There were witnesses here. Ron knew in his heart and his head that Snape would win the fight if they duelled; the man had bested some of the greatest wizards living or dead. The man possibly knew more about the dark arts than anyone alive, perhaps more than even Voldemort.

Snape was like a rattlesnake under a rock, harmless if you stayed out of striking distance and did not bother him. But, if you were to push him, or if you were a threat to him, you might end up dead.

Ron said, ”Can we be honest with each over Snape?”

Severus’s black eyes were like dark pools, like the black lake. Just as you could not see the bottom of the lake; you could not see or figure out what the former truly felt or believe. He was like a book in a language that you did not know. He was like a dangerous animal trapped in a cage. He was a former spy, a death eater. He was someone who Hermione had found interesting. 

Ron and this man we're as different as night and day. Neither was good or bad; they were just different. He thought how could it be that Hermione at one point in her life had loved him, and in the end, she had loved Severus Snape. A tiger doesn't change his stripes and leopard doesn't change their spots was something that his wife used to say, so which was the one who she truly loved? Which one was the perfect match for her?

Part of Ron wished it was him, but after that kiss with Draco, he doubted that it to be true. If he was gay, they were not a proper match. It meant her match, her one true love, if there was any truth to that, was Snape. Ron didn't know if he felt horrible for not admitting to even himself he was gay. But, also Hermione. She deserved better. 

Even if it hurt in the beginning,, it would have been just as painful for them as it was when Ron realized Hermione cheated on him. If they had been honest with each other, then maybe they both would’ve had happier endings.

Severus said, ”I will be honest with you, Weasley, but only if you will be frank with me as well.”

Ron nodded and then spoke, “Hermione was pregnant with your child when she died. I found it in her journal. She knew it was yours because we weren't sleeping together. We hadn't had sex in six months, hadn't shared a bed in three. I think she was going to tell you... That day... She died, that is.”

Severus, the man who seemedmade of stone, reacted. His eyes went wide with emotion, not unlike that of an owl. He whispered, ”She... Was... Pregnant, with my child?”

Ron nodded.

Severus said, ”She did not tell me. I would have left her decisions of what she wanted to do with her. It was her body, after all.”

Ron was shocked at that comment Snape was not someone he expected to believe in ”a woman’s right to choose”. The desire to control everything was something that he would expect the man to have. He was a Slytherin, after all. Maybe it was because the man was a spy. After all, every aspect of his life had been controlled by his masters. The one who he truly served and the one he pretended to. 

Pureblood's generally saw every single pregnancy, every single child, as a gift to the world. Magical people tended to struggle to get pregnant, and most witches would then struggle to stay pregnant. That was why abortions, potions and also the procedure we're outlawed as soon as they figured out a way to.

Severus said, ”My mother did not have a choice. She could not choose what she wanted to do to her own body. She was forced to have me, to raise a child that she did not want, to be married to a man who outright hated her. I know, as a society, we are used to having the ability to press our beliefs on others and their decisions however this was not my choice to make.”

Ron said, “How did you two end up together?”

Severus said, “Why are you asking that?”

Ron said, “Because she’s gone, Severus, and she’s not here to answer these questions. I can never ask them, and to be honest, I need to know... I have to.., Understand it.”

Severus said, “If you are sure... I will tell you.”

“I am sure”, he took a sip of his drink, it was now as cold tap water, but it was more for the distraction than anything else.

Severus said, “I met her again, a year ago. The unspeakable department needed some help on a case, and they thought I was the best to give it. She seemed like another person from the woman... the girl I knew years ago. Don’t worry, Ronald I never viewed my students in such a light. Not her, not any of you. I am not attracted to children. 

Beyond that, I had no time for such things during the war. 

We went out to dinner, to work on a case late. We both had far too much to drink. I made the foolish choice to ask her to come home with me.”

Ron asked, “Why was it foolish?” He spat out the words with dull spite. He didn’t know why he cared. It had already happened, and there was not a damn thing, he could do about it.

Severus deadpanned, his black full of frustration, “Because it was wrong for us to go behind your back, it was wrong for me to be with a married woman.It was wrong for us to say after this time we would end it,after this time we would tell you. But, after all this time, we never did. We should have been better people.”

Ron said, “You really loved her, didn’t you?”

Severus stared back at him, his eyes as black as ink, full of pain, suffering, and so much more. Ron saw in Snape’s eyes what everyone had seen in his. The pain of someone who lost someone, but had so many regrets they could barely breathe. So many disappointments, that he seemed to be drowning where he stood. But, unlike Ron, Snape had no one. Ron had his daughter, his son, Harry, Neville, Luna, and now it seemed Draco.

Who did Snape have? Lucius was dead. Dumbledore was dead. Most of the man’s generation had eitherfallen in the war or was rotting in Azkaban. Hell to be honest, even if they weren't, they would likely try to kill him if they weren't. 

Severus said, ”Of course I loved her...I loved her more than anything, and I always will.” He stared down at his pale long stained fingers. Ron didn't hate Severus anymore; he only felt bad for him. How could he hate someone who clearly loved someone so much, even if the person he loved happened to be Hermione... Ron’s wife. The old Ron would have hated him for such things. The former Ron would have wanted to smash the man’s greasy-haired head against the wooden table.

But, the grown man, the father, the one who had experienced death, war, and suffering? He never wanted to see Snape again. He would never be friends with the man. He did not want to invite the man to his family’s Sunday dinner, or holidays or anything. But, he did not hate him. 

Ron dug out of his bag, something that he had been carrying around for five years, something that before Snape was honest with him, would’ve been unthinkable to give up. Well, actually it was two things. He laid on the table in front of him a leather-bound journal. It was a faded maroon; it vaguely reminded Ron of blood. 

But, it had been Hermione’s. He had read it cover to cover, what felt like a hundred times. It was time to let it go. It was time to let her go. She hadn’t been his in the end anyway. 

The second thing that he had set out was a necklace. On the chain was a silver heart-shaped locket as well as a ring. The ring was a silver snake; it would look as if it was twisted around a person’s finger if they wore. Ron had not bought it for Hermione. He didn't know where it came from until he read her journal. He had nearly thrown it into the fire, locket and ring both, for good measure, but Rose had stopped him. 

She had insisted he would regret doing such a thing. She had insisted her mother was not a horrible person. She was just human. That maybe she would want those things of her mother’s when she calmed down. That she at that moment in time was just as angry as he was. That she too had considered tossing those things in the fire, but that would change with time. 

She might one day want to pass that locket onto her own daughter. But, that ring had protection spells on it, not anything dark per se, or even grey, but they were strong. It felt like charmsthat would cast onto pureblood familyartefacts. 

Looking back with the clarity of time, he knew that it was likely from Severus’s magical half of his family. 

Severus said as he grabbed, no clutched the necklace close, ”How did you find this? I thought it had been lost. These were once my mother’s. They were all she was able to take with her when she left her family...”

Ron said, ”The muggle authorities gave it to me when they found... Her body”, he stared down at his fingers nails. He wanted to bite them—it was his nervous habit—from childhood, which he had long since given up. But, at this moment he wished that he had never given it up. 

He wanted to bite his nails more than he wanted to drink right after Hermione had died, more than he wanted to be a professional Quidditch star, more than he wanted anything ever. It was such a foolish thing he wanted, and yet he wanted it. But, he would not do that in front of Snape. Not now, not ever. He desperately grabbed onto the legs of his pants to stop himself from doing his nervous tick. He then waited for what the other man to speak. 

Severus said, “This is her journal? You want me to have it?”

Ron nodded.

“Thank you... Weasley, Ron. I will borrow this if you would prefer and give it back to you if you would prefer that.”

Ron said, “No. I have gone through it far too many times,looking for answers, looking for reasons why she was not honest with me. It needs to be out of my house. I need to stop carrying it around. You were the person she loved at the end of her life, so it should be yours.”

Severus said, ”But your children might want it...”

”They don't. Rose doesn't want to really talk about her mother, she doesn't hate her, but Rose and I were always closer than her and Hermione. Her mother loved her, don't get me wrong and Rose,her, but Hermione was always closer to Hugo. 

Hugo took her cheating on me personally. He's still quite angry. In a way, my son took itas if Hermione had cheated on our whole family, not just me. I have tried to explain to him that wasn't the case, that she still loved him, but I have had no luck. 

With time I hope he will change his mind, but that may take years. And I need her journal out of my house before hepulls his head out of his ass and finds it . It's yours to keep it all is.”

Severus popped open the locketand showed the photos to Ron. One was of Rose and the other of Hugo. He said to the man, ”Never doubt that Hermione loved her children, they were her whole world. She did not tell you about me, about our relationship for fear of hurting them. Nothing I said would change her mind. She wanted to wait until her children were out of school, to protect them. And I Mr Weasley was far too enthralled to leave her.”

Ron said, ”Her pregnancy changed that. Her last entry in her journal said she was going to tell you she was going to ask me for a divorce. She couldn't be without you, and she realized, our children knew something was up. She loved you, Severus Snape, and she wanted to have a family with you.”

The man with the greasy hair did something Ron believed he rarely ever did, Severus started to cry.

He did love her just as much as she loved him. Ron loved her Hermione, but not the earth-shattering kind of love Snape seemed to be capable of only. Maybe one day he would feel like that, but he didn't know if he wanted to. Ever. But, Ron knew he was going to meet Draco at that restaurant and try and have a good time. It was time to move on; he did what he needed to do. 

He let Hermione go.

**************************

Maria’s was dimly lit. It was something Ginnymight call romantic, but he would just call it a place that made it hard to read the menu. Glasses rested on his narrow nose. He needed them to read now. Gone was the young man who played Quidditch, the Auror and the boy who hated potions.

Draco sat in front of him. His blonde hair fell in his silver-blue eyes; he too read the menu. When the waitress came by with her curly black hair, she had to get their attention twice. They were far too busy staring at each other, acting like love-struck teenagers that they no longer were. 

Her sharp green eyes stared at them as she said harshly for the third time, ”Have you decided what you want yet?”

Draco made a disgruntled noise, and Ron ended a deep shade of bright red. Draco said, ”I would like the tortellini with pesto.”

Ron muttered, ”I would like the chicken parmesan.”

Draco added that he would also want a bottle of red wine. 

The waitress left then, then silently brought them their bottle of wine and glasses. They talked about life, their kids, work, holidays, their past, they even talked a tiny bit about their dead wives, but they only touched on that subject. Ron nibbled on a breadstick, Draco took a sip of his glass of wine. 

Draco whispered in his ear, “After dinner, I want you inside of me. I want to know you, Ron as no one else has.” (whoa, that came out of nowhere… natter natter DIRTY TALK) lol maybe introduce that with some flirting? Cause that was a rather sudden and jarring jump. 

Ron said, “I want the same”, and gulped down a deep breath. 

Their food was brought to them, plates laid in front of them. The rich Italian food blew steam in their faces as the dishes were set down. Ron had to stop himself from drooling over the steaming pile of cheese, chicken, and pasta. 

They dug in, and silence fell over the table like someone dropped a thick, heavy sheet over their little corner of the room. Ron honestly did not know how many glasses of wine he had. His face felt hot, and he told Draco things he would not say when he was sober. ”I think you're handsome”, he muttered to Draco.

Draco said, ”I think you rather handsome as well.”

Ron said, ”Why didn't we admit this sooner that we liked each other?”

Draco said, ”Because Ron, at least for me I was raised as a typical pureblood. People don't end up with the same gender, and people don't marry people outside of their class. I wish I would have been able to tell them where to shove it when I was young, but I am willing and able to now. Would you like to come home with me, Ron?”

Ron said, ”Yes, I would love to.”

Maybe put that dirty talk here instead.

So they went home together, back to Malfoy Manor, back to place Ron thought he would never visit again.

*****************************

Ron sucked on Draco’s neck, and left a bright red mark on the man’s porcelain-like pale skin. Draco moaned, ”I want you inside of me... Now.”

Ron said, ”And I want to be inside of you, so show me where your room is.”

Draco said, ”Down the hall and the first door on the right.”

They stumbled to Draco’s room, brushing up against each other and kissing each other as they went. Once they reached the room they took off their clothes. Shirts thrown on the soft plush carpet, jeans chucked on the plush armchair they were down to their boxers and socks. Kissing on the bed like randy teenagers,Draco under Ron, a freckled hand running down a snow-white chest.

Ron asked him, ”Have you ever... Done this before?”

Draco said, ”Yes... Once. You?”

Ron said, ”No, never. I don't know how.” The gusto and hazy feeling of the wine was gone, but he still wanted the blonde, only now he was rather nervous. Draco did a wandless spell a smooth salve container landed on the bed, and Draco reached for it. 

He then said, ”This is lube. Unlike women, men need it to be able to have sex. You have to coat your fingers in it and stretch me. I can do it the first time, and you can do it the next time.”

Draco took off his boxers and socks and told Ron to do the same. He did. Draco stretched himself slowly one and two fingers. Then he tossed the jar to Ron and said, ”Coat your cock with this, and then put it inside of me.”

Ron did as he was told, and for once, he was happy that he did. It was a rather glorious night and a happy start to their of their future. Sex wasn't supposed to feel like this, but it did. It sent fire in his veins. It made his heart pound in his ears. He felt alive in a way he hadn't felt in decades. 

It felt like flying, like playing Quidditch. 

***********************

The light streamed the large bay window onto Ron’s bright red hair. Draco stared at Ron, whose hair vaguely reminded him of his bed partner’s house color. The deep reds and the warm golds. He sighed and stretched, stood, and pulled on a pair of sweats from a few nights ago. 

His feet hit the cool, wooden floor, he walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on. This manor held so much darkness for him. His home had stood as a monument to all of his suffering. This was where Voldemort marked him and there the same monster threatened to kill his mother. This was where Bellatrix wreaked havoc on all who she was able to. 

But, this was also his childhood home. This was where his mother tucked him in at night,where his father had read him stories. This was where he married Astoria. This was where his father had died, and where his mother had gotten sick. This was where Scorpius was born and where Astoria died of her blood curse. This was the home of the Malfoy family for generations since they came to England. These four walls, this stone, wood, and fabric was what made him who he was.

This manor had built him to be the man he was, andthat made him Draco Lucius Malfoy. For better and for worse. Right after the war, when he was young and stupid, he had considered burning the manor to the ground. Sometimes he felt as if the estate itself was soaked in dark magic as if the building had poisoned the Malfoy family, but that wasn't the case. They were the ones who made it where dark magic dwelled, and just as they had made it dark he could make it light. 

The kettle whistled loudly snapping him out of his rambling and oppressing thoughts. The thoughts that would drown Draco if he allowed him to. He then heard another set of bare feet hit the wooden floor. Scorpius wasn't home; he was at Al’s flat. So, it had to be—Ron—and that made his heart sing.

The redhead said, ”Good morning, not going to kick me out, are you?”

He said, ”Why would I do that, Ron? You were too good in bed for that.” Then he laughed, ”But seriously, Ron, I want this to be more than just a one night stand. I like you, and I could love you.”

Ron kissed him, then pour their tea, the kettle was still whistling, and he said, “Well, I think I could love you too. Now let's have breakfast, and maybe we could take a walk through the gardens. I heard so much about them from Rose when she used to visit as a child. But, I have never seen them myself.”

Draco said as he picked up his teacup, ”I would love to take you on a walk through the gardens.”


End file.
